


Let Me Take Care of You

by bleedforyou1



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedforyou1/pseuds/bleedforyou1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is so ill, he can't even bring himself to eat, so Merlin has to feed him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Take Care of You

**Author's Note:**

> ZOMG. This is my first time writing Merlin/Arthur but I saw this prompt on KMM and I just had to fill it.

Merlin came in to work early for once, and he was struck still as he watched Arthur weakly toss and turn in bed, sweat shining on his face. Last night, he had missed supper and all hell seemed to break loose. Gaius had told Merlin very specifically that the Prince did not get sick very often, but when he did, it was a matter of great importance. 

Arthur was known to have quite a temper on his normal days, but Merlin was surprised to find out that when he was sick, Arthur became quiet, almost withdrawn, and weak. It was so _odd_ seeing Arthur as the weak one, considering he was the strongest man Merlin had ever met. 

Gaius said it was because of some sort of psychological need for his mother, and Merlin agreed—although they would _never_ say so in front of Arthur himself. 

Putting a fake, cheerful smile on his face, Merlin went and opened the window curtains and called out his familiar greeting.

“Up and at ‘em, sire!”

Instead of a snarky retort, all he received in reply was a low, pain-filled moan. 

“Sire?” Merlin asked, nearing the bed. Arthur shivered underneath the blankets, pulling them closer to his body. He was breaking out in cool sweat and when Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s forehead, it seemed to burn. “Here, sire, you need to get up and eat so that the medicine Gaius brewed will work.”

“’can’t get up,” Arthur whispered, his voice sounding so broken and tired. “Too c-cold and tired.”

“You didn’t sleep a wink last night, did you?” Merlin sighed and went over to stoke the fireplace. Gaius said that Merlin was to keep everything hot and steamy so that Arthur would sweat out the fever, but it didn’t seem to be working. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Arthur was murmuring behind him. “Can I have the medicine now? I need to go back to training the knights.”

Merlin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “My lord, you are _sick_. Stop thinking about your knights for a few days and allow yourself to recover. And I told you, you have to eat before the medicine, or else there’s no use.”

He watched as Arthur slowly, weakly sat up in bed, clutching his blankets closer to him and leaning against the headboard with a brave face on. “I’ll eat if you shut up.”

Merlin grinned at the familiar banter and came closer, pulling the breakfast tray onto the bed, in front of Arthur. He had deliberately begged the cook for all of Arthur’s favourites, and although she was usually a nasty bitch in the morning, she took one look at Merlin’s desperate face and given him plenty of food for the Prince. 

Arthur didn’t seem to notice what was on the tray however. He was staring at the food with a sort of haunted expression, as if it were a battle that he must rage through instead of a simple meal. 

Slowly taking one bite of cheese, Arthur swallowed thickly as Merlin stood by the bed. Closing his eyes, Arthur stopped to sag against the bedpost and push the tray away. 

“I can’t do it,” he said thickly. “Just give me the medicine.” 

Gritting his teeth, Merlin did something that, in hindsight, he probably should’ve called Guinevere to do. He sat down on the edge of Arthur’s bed and pulled the tray into his lap. He broke off a piece of the bread and held it up to the Prince’s lips. 

“Eat, or I’ll _never_ shut up.”

Arthur regarded him through narrowed eyes, and slowly but surely opened his mouth and chewed on the bread. Merlin smiled in satisfaction and he looked down, quickly breaking off the food into tiny bites and holding them up to Arthur’s mouth. He was genuinely surprised that Arthur was allowing this. This was all kinds of _wrong_. Manservant’s were not supposed to sit on their master’s bed or touch their master’s food, _or_ feed their masters when they were sick as if they were their mothers. 

But Merlin had broken far, _far_ worse rules for Arthur, and if this was going to make the Prince feel better, then he was surely not going to stop just because of some society rules and traditions. 

“You don’t….” Arthur tried to say between a mouthfuls. Merlin held up his cup of berry juice and let the tip of the cup slide into Arthur’s pliant mouth. 

“What were you saying?” Merlin asked as he held up another bite of food. 

“Was that cranberry juice?” Arthur asked, his eyebrow raising. “I thought cranberries weren’t in season?” 

Merlin blushed and looked down to where the cranberry juice sat. This morning, when he had woken far too early and Arthur was supposed to sleep late, Merlin had went outside and used his magic to turn grapes into cranberries and had squashed them slowly to make them sweeter, because he knew Arthur loved cranberry juice the most. 

It was ridiculous how much Merlin loved his Prince. Simply, utterly, immorally ridiculous. 

“I think the cooks found some the other day, that they had frozen,” Merlin lied, shrugging. “You got lucky is all.”

“Right,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes as if he didn’t believe a word Merlin said. However, the food had brought some colour back into Arthur’s pale face and his hands didn’t seem to shake with cold anymore either. 

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Arthur said as he finished his last few bites. 

“Well, if I didn’t, then you’d get worse and possibly die and I’d be out of a job, sire,” Merlin replied cheekily, as was his habit. “You know better than I how hard it is to get a job in Camelot these days.”

“So you did this for the solidarity of your paycheck, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur asked in his usual royal-prat tone, but with an underlying hint of fondness that made Merlin blush again. 

“That and…” Merlin shrugged. 

“And?” Arthur sat up, bringing him closer to Merlin. 

“And, well, the kingdom would be very upset and you know how much I love the kingdom…”

“And…?” Arthur asked, leaning in even more, his face close to Merlin’s now. 

“And…” Merlin swallowed thickly. “And you have to take the medicine now.”

Arthur pulled back almost roughly, leaning against the headboard again, as if the conversation had unsettled him somehow. Merlin sighed and leaned over, grabbing the small vial from where he had placed it on Arthur’s nightstand. He handed it to Arthur along with the cranberry juice, watching as Arthur drank it quickly and grimaced, chugging half the juice afterwards. 

“You can go now, Merlin. Go serve the kingdom you love so much,” Arthur bit out and laid back down, curling himself back into the blankets and facing away from Merlin. 

Merlin was confused as to _why_ the prince was so angry, but it occurred to him that… no, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be that Arthur wanted Merlin to say that he wanted to feed Arthur because he loved him? Because, when Arthur felt sick, then Merlin felt sick? And when Arthur was in mortal danger, it felt as though Merlin’s heart was being ripped out of his chest? 

But no, Arthur couldn’t possibly want Merlin to say any of _that_. 

He clearly wanted _something_ though and since Merlin didn’t have anything else to give, he simply leaned down and brushed his hand through Arthur’s hair, in a way that his mother would do when Merlin was sick, and leaned down to kiss his temple. 

“Feel better, Arthur,” Merlin said slowly, knowing he was crossing the line. He was _beyond_ breaking society traditions; he was being simply criminal now. “I’ll come back to see how you’re doing soon.”

He stood up and was about to leave when he felt fingers curl around his wrist. Merlin looked back down to see Arthur lying on his back, staring at him with those same intense blue eyes that gave him orders such as _muck out my stables_ or _polish my boots_. Merlin wondered what he was going to order him to do this time. Perhaps go put himself in the stocks for daring to kiss the royal Prince on the forehead like a child. 

But, Arthur ordered something entirely different indeed. And, Merlin supposed, it wasn’t really an order. More like a hesitant, sweet, question. 

“Stay with me?” 

And Merlin was a _very_ good manservant who cared for the Kingdom a great deal, so of course, he complied. Toeing off his boots without a word, Merlin crawled up onto the royal bed and pushed himself under the covers, curling around his Prince in the way he had wanted to for _years_. 

“I did it for you, Arthur,” Merlin said as he rested his nose into the crook of Arthur’s shoulder. “I’ll always do everything, just for you.” 

“I know,” Arthur muttered. “And I know I don’t say it enough… but thank you.” 

Merlin smiled and allowed himself to rest, lying with Arthur, as they both faded into sleepy bliss.


End file.
